


The Mooning Wolf

by literaryoblivion



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [77]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2533100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He blames the fact that he was by himself and didn’t have Scott or Lydia or someone to stop him. He blames the fact that he was trying to get over his feelings towards the stupid grumpy asshole of a werewolf named Derek Hale. He blames the fact that his dad is working late and therefore won’t know where he’s gone. He blames the fact that he has a fake ID to get him into the Jungle where he can look pretty enough to get drinks provided for him and buy the rest with his allowance to make him so wasted that he doesn’t remember why it’s maybe not a good idea to get a tattoo, and why it’s not as funny as he thinks it is to get one of a wolf howling at the moon on his ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mooning Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This was in answer to anon I received that said, "What if one night stiles got drunk and decided it'd be funny to get a tattoo of a wolf howling at the moon on his ass. After it heals he kinda forgets about it until its somehow hilariously revealed."
> 
> For the Tumblr post, [click here](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/post/101276714523/what-if-one-night-stiles-got-drunk-and-decided-itd-be).

He blames the fact that he was by himself and didn’t have Scott or Lydia or someone to stop him. He blames the fact that he was trying to get over his feelings towards the stupid grumpy asshole of a werewolf named Derek Hale. He blames the fact that his dad is working late and therefore won’t know where he’s gone. He blames the fact that he has a fake ID to get him into the Jungle where he can look pretty enough to get drinks provided for him and buy the rest with his allowance to make him so wasted that he doesn’t remember why it’s maybe not a good idea to get a tattoo, and why it’s not as funny as he thinks it is to get one of a wolf howling at the moon on his ass.

He thinks, in his drunken state, that it’s his way of telling Derek to kiss his ass, or something, maybe? Whatever.

The point is, it’s happened, and he wakes up to his ass wrapped in plastic wrap feeling like it’s on fire and a pounding headache.

He kind of can’t do anything about the unfortunate decision of getting the tattoo, but at least it’s in a location where no one can see it, not even him, unless they were _really_ looking or in some kind of intimate situation. And since he has since quit lacrosse and has no prospects of the intimate variety, he doesn’t have anything to worry about.

He does however follow the instructions on proper care because the last thing he wants to do is admit to his Dad what happened or go to the hospital to have Mrs. McCall treating his infected butt.

So he takes care of it, is careful with how he sits, but not so careful that people notice. Or maybe they’ll just think he got some, which he’s more than happy to let them think. After it’s healed though, he kind of forgets that it’s there. Well, he knows it’s there of course, but you know, out of sight out of mind. It’s not like he checks out his own ass that often.

That is of course until they are all at Lydia’s lake house swimming, goofing off, and he decides it’d be really hilarious to start pantsing the guys. Only Scott retaliates so spectacularly by ripping his swim trunks off with his claws and shredding them so Stiles has nothing but his hands to cover himself.

He’s quickly trying to run to the nearest towel laying on a nearby chair while he’s covering his junk with his hands (so he’s waddling more than running), when he notices that instead of laughter behind him it’s silence.

Oh… right. His ass is clearly on display for everyone, meaning his howling wolf tattoo is on display.

He yanks the towel off the chair and wraps it around his waist, and slowly turns to face them.

“Uhhh, that was funny, but seeing as I have no pants now… I’m gonna go,” he says thumbing over his shoulder.

“Is that a wolf?” Scott asks, still staring at Stiles’s lower half, which means he’s staring at his junk now instead of his ass. Derek is sitting on the edge of the pool, staring at Stiles although thankfully at his face. His expression is unreadable, and Stiles really doesn’t not want to get into the reason behind his tattoo and why he has one right now.

“Is what a wolf?” Stiles says. Good idea, play it off like it’s nothing.

“On your ass,” Isaac says.

“When did you get a tattoo?” Scott asks, and shit he looks upset. Stiles shrugs. “But… but you hate needles and blood, and… you passed out when I was getting mine! Why didn’t… How come you didn’t tell me about it? I would have… you know I would have gone with you.” Now Scott genuinely sounds hurt, like Stiles getting a tattoo without him and then keeping it from him means that he’s betrayed their friendship, which is so not true.

“It was… spur of the drunken moment. It was a while ago. It’s not a big deal.”

“Your drunken self thought it’d be great to get a howling wolf tattoo?” Isaac says, his eyebrows raised, clearly being judgey, which Stiles does not need right not when he’s pantless, wet, and cold.

“Apparently so,” Stiles says, angry.

“But why?” Scott asks in earnest, clearly Stiles is going to need to do something in the near future for Scott to assure him they are still best bros.

Stiles eyes dart unconsciously towards Derek, who looks just as curious as Scott as to the meaning behind Stiles’s mistake of a tattoo. His eyes return to Scott, but Stiles can tell Derek caught Stiles looking at him. He sighs because he might as well get this over with, at least in general terms. He can give Scott details later, but not here in front of everyone, especially not in front of Derek.

“I was… upset about something. I got drunk, woke up with the tattoo. End of story.” He gives Scott a significant look, to imply that Scott should accept that explanation for now until they are alone. “I’m gonna go. See you guys later.” Stiles says and he grabs his shirt, keys and shoes and walks out to drive home.

~

After he gets out of the shower, strolls into his room, and throws his towel off to pull on a pair of boxer briefs, the last thing he expects is for Derek fucking Hale to clear his throat behind him.

He spins around holding his briefs in front of himself. “Shit! Dude! Haven’t you seen me naked enough today?!”

Derek rolls his eyes and turns around as he waits for Stiles to get dressed.

“Done?” Derek asks.

“Yeah. What do you want anyway? Why are you here sneaking in my room? I thought we were past that.”

Derek turns, his brow furrowed as he stares hard at Stiles. “I know that tattoo is because of me,” he says, voice quiet and not as hard as Stiles would have expected given his expression.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You… because you looked at me. And I remember you acting like you were in pain every time you sat down when you got it, although at the time I thought it was because of… something else because it was right after… After… we…”

Stiles narrows his eyes, furious because Derek can’t even fucking say it. “After we kissed, Derek. After I poured my fucking heart out to you, and you didn’t say a goddamn thing. After you acted like the last thing you wanted was to even be near me let alone date me. Like the kiss didn’t mean anything. Like it was all a big fucking mistake. Well, guess, what, Derek? You’re right. It is because of you. Congratulations.”

“Stiles-- That’s not-- I didn’t--”

“I don’t want to hear it Derek. It’s fine. I’m dealing with it. I’m trying to move on. But you showing up, crawling into my room like you have _permission_ to do it, isn’t helping, and needs to stop. I’m having a hard enough time acting like everything’s fine at pack meetings. I don’t want to have to do that in the privacy of my own fucking bedroom.”

“ _Stiles_ ,” he says and it almost sounds like he’s pleading.

“What!?” Stiles shouts because why the fuck does Derek sound pleading and earnest. It wasn’t Stiles who pushed him away. It wasn’t Stiles who muttered something about how he can’t do this. If anyone should be pleading, it should be Stiles, but it’s not like that’s going to happen.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re telling me you _didn’t mean_ to push me away and tell me you can’t do this?” Stiles waves his hand between the two of them. They’re only a few feet away, but it feels like they are miles apart. “Is that what you’re saying, Derek? Huh? Is it?”

Derek is standing still, his entire body is tense, like he’s just barely on the edge of his control, like at any moment he’ll shift. His jaw is clenched, but Stiles can see him swallowing, like he’s trying to formulate what he wants to say. And fine, Stiles can wait. It’ll probably be a fucking Kodak moment that will be worth the wait.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, for you to think I didn’t want you.” Stiles’s mouth is open in shock, and although he has some retort on the tip of his tongue, he bites it back because clearly Derek has more to say. “I wasn’t lying when I said I can’t do this. I’m not… I’m not good for you. Everyone I love--I get close to gets hurt. I didn’t… I don’t want that for you.”

He looks up at Stiles, stares into his eyes, and the pure vulnerability on his face makes the anger in Stiles start to drain away.

“Newsflash, big guy, I can take care of myself.”

Derek sighs. “I know that.”

Stiles takes a step closer. “Is that your only excuse? You pushed me away because you want to protect me? Save me?” Derek shrugs, and Stiles moves closer, lifts his hand to wrap around Derek’s wrist. “What if you’re the only thing that can save me?”

Derek looks into his eyes. “Am I?”

“You could be.”

For a moment, Derek looks hopeful, but just as quickly, his face drops.

“You deserve better. You deserve someone better.”

Stiles nods his head, and Derek stares at his feet, his shoulders sagging. “You’re right. I do. I deserve someone brave and strong and willing to give up their own wants and desires to help and rescue other people.” Derek starts to pull away, but Stiles pulls him back, keeps him there and smiles. “Last I checked, you fit that description pretty perfectly.”

Derek’s gaze snaps up to Stiles, who is grinning wider now. “Stiles, you’re still young, and…”

Stiles frowns. “Shut up. Stop making excuses, Derek. Do you want this?” He pulls Derek in so their chests are pressed together. “Do you want me?” he adds, quiet and unsure, his eyes wide, searching.

Slowly, Derek lifts his hand to cup Stiles’s cheek, runs a thumb over his cheekbone as he bobs his head. “Yes.”

Stiles smiles. “Then everything else we can deal with as it comes.”

Derek furrows his brow, still unsure, but Stiles reaches up and smooths it with a finger. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Stiles says back. Derek pouts and Stiles can’t help the chuckle that escapes from him. “You said I deserved someone better. Well, I think you deserve to be happy. And… if you’ll let me… I’d like to be the person that can make you happy.”

For the first time in this entire conversation, Derek’s lips curl up in a faint smile. “I’d… I’d like that.” Stiles beams, and Derek’s smile becomes more apparent. “Not sure you can actually pull it off though, seeing as I’m so ‘grumpy,’” Derek says, obviously teasing.

“I am willing to take on the challenge.” Then, Stiles pulls Derek down by his neck into a kiss. It’s less heated and frantic than their first one all those months ago, more calm and loving and this time they are both equal participants. Derek has his arms around Stiles’s waist, holding him closer, like he has to make sure that he’s there that this is real.

Eventually they break the kiss, their foreheads pressed against each other. Derek rubs his nose against Stiles’s, and Stiles’s heart swells a little with how much he cares about Derek. He was delusional in ever thinking he could get over him.

“Is the wolf supposed to be me?” Derek asks.

“Huh?”

“The tattoo. The howling wolf has blue eyes. Like mine…”

Stiles groans. “I was upset and drunk with a fake ID. It was not a good combo okay.”

Derek chuckles and pecks Stiles on the lips. “I’m sorry about all of that.” Stiles shrugs a shoulder and kisses Derek again as his way of saying it’s alright. “Maybe… maybe you could show it to me sometime? I didn’t get a good look at it.”

Stiles leans back in mock scandal. “Are you trying to see me naked again?”

Derek smirks. “Maybe. I’d make it worth your while…”

Stiles rolls his eyes and throws his arms around Derek’s neck. “I’m already gone on you, you don’t have to do the cheesy pickup lines.”

“But you like the cheesy pickup lines.”

Stiles laughs and shakes his head fondly. “Come here, there’s more light on my bed…” Stiles says as he drags Derek across his room.

~

Needless to say but Derek gets a very up close view of Stiles’s tattoo. And it does in fact have blue eyes, and it even has a triskelion on it’s back. How drunk Stiles was able to convey that detail to the tattoo artist, they will never know. Derek remains the only one with the knowledge of that detail of it…

Well, that is until the Sheriff walks in on them.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


End file.
